Wherefore it cometh that yet do the youths of the Myrmidons lay {1770}
On their shoulders the jars full-brimmed, and burdened so do they speed
With light-running feet o’er the race-course striving for victory’s meed.
Be gracious, O blest generation of chieftains!—may these lays ring
Year after year in the ears of men ever sweeter to sing!
For now at the last am I come to the glorious ending of all,
To the bourne of your travail: for struggle nor strife did thereafter befall
Unto you, as homeward-bound from Aigina did Argo flee,
Neither tempest of winds brake forth; but over a peaceful sea
By the land of Kekrops, by Aulis coasting, and under the lee